Trick Or Treat
by Poppy Pineapple
Summary: Henry has a ghoulish encounters with his wife on All Hallows Eve 1542.


_31st October 1542_

It had been a cool, crisp autumn day and the pale blue sky was fast turning inky blue as day transitioned into night. The fires of Hampton Court Palace were being stoked and the servants watched as the flames danced in the fire places whilst the logs began to crackle under the heat of the fire.

It was All Hallow's Eve, the one time of the year where the souls of the deceased were able to cross over from the after life and revisit their homes.

Henry felt even more at unease this All Hallow's Eve. Early this year he had executed his fifth wife, the whore Katherine Howard, and so four of his five wives were dead. He acknowledged that he was partly responsible for at least two of their demises and always feared that their malevolent spirits might come back to seek their revenge on him.

But the one thing that got him safely through the night was the knowledge that the next day was All Saints Day. There would be a great feast and much merriment at court as they celebrated one of the most holiest of days. And who knows, he might even find a new buxom maiden who he could woo and take to his bed to finish the day off with.

But right now it was still All Hallow's Eve and he was with his two youngest children, Elizabeth and Edward, dining at a small and intimate supper in his private chamber.

A smile overcame his face as he watched the children scoff at soul cakes and sweet meats. Little Edward was greedily stuffing his mouth with as much treats as he could fit in there and then proceeded to wash it down with great glugs of mead. Elizabeth, already the graceful little courtier, had far more decorum and proceeded by nibbling at bits of cakes, taking care to cover her mouth as she chewed. Henry noted that she was far too aware of herself at such a tender age and was a little worried she was growing too much like her mother.

A cold shiver ran through his body at such a thought.

"Papa" Edward called out and Henry immediately looked up at his bright eyed son, "Do you think Mama will visit us this evening?" he asked with all the innocence of an infant.

Elizabeth stumbled and almost knocked her plate of the table. Any conversations about mothers, whether it be her own or others, always made her ill at ease. Especially when she was in the presence of her father. She cast her eyes down to the ground and continued to eat.

"Your Mama is always with us" Henry smiled and he truly believed it. His Jane had been the sweetest person he had ever known. She had such a kind heart and sweet spirit, she was sure that she was an angel sent down by God to grace him. And when it pleased God to take his beloved wife away from him, he was always sure she was close by, an angelic guide to watch over him and his children. He was always warmed and comforted by this thought.

Edward beamed back at him before diving back into his supper, and the rest of the evening was filled with pleasantries as the trio talked about lessons and hunting, before Elizabeth finally finished the night off playing a new tune she had learned on her lyre.

* * *

><p>Henry made sure he recited his prayers three times more than usual this night, just to be on the safe side. He was sure that humbling himself before the Almighty Lord would bring him protection from any evil souls prowling the night air.<p>

He jumped into his bed and although still feeling rather unsettled, after a couple of minutes he fell into a deep sleep, safely nestled within his furs and blankets.

That was until an unnaturally cold wind howled around his bedroom and woke up him up not even minute past midnight. As the wind chilled his skin, his first thought was '_damned servants, some one has left the window open. At this time of year! Are they trying to kill me? I will see to them first thing in the morning'._

But as he sat up and dragged himself out of bed and over to the window, he realised that the windows had been bolted shut and could see the crisp, frosty leaves rattling against the glass panes. He furrowed his brow in confusion but quietly returned back to bed. Although the room was still quite cold, the wind had ceased howling and had died down entirely. He lay back against his feathered mattress and closed his eyes, trying to fall back to sleep.

And after ten minutes he had almost succeeded. But just as he started to drift off into a dark and peaceful sleep, a piercing whistle began to echo across the room. He jumped out of bed in outrage. How dare his guards start whistling at such an ungodly hour. But as he threw his crimson dressing gown on over his pristine nightshirt, he realised that the noise wasn't coming from outside in the hall way.

No, it was coming from across his bed chamber.

Cautiously, he decided to investigate the noise. He slowly paced forward, one step after another, until he came to the far side of his room. He listened carefully, trying to pinpoint the source of the eerie whistling, and finally decided it was coming from behind the curtain.

Was there someone behind it? His heart almost stopped for a minute and he swallowed hard to try and get rid of the lump that had formed in his throat. With a shaking hand he retrieved the sword that he kept beside his desk and unsheathed it from it's gilded case.

Hesitantly, and without even the good sense to call for his guards in his nervous state, he pointed the sword at the curtain and pulled it back with it's tip.

And there, stood quite still, was a slender woman with raven hair and sparkling black eyes that were like the Devil's. There was a loud crash and clatter as the sword fell from Henry's hand and struck the hard, stone floor.

Henry let out an ear piercing scream and ran to the other side of the room, letting the curtain fall back over the figure.

"Help! Guards!" he yelled, desperately clutching at the door handle but having no success in opening the door. He banged with all his might, his fists turning from white to purple to red as they began to blister, bruise and bleed.

"Oh Henry, always the fool" the voice called out to him and as it spoke, he felt its icy presence coming ever closer.

He began clawing at the polished wooden panels, how come no had come to save him? He was screaming bloody murder and yet no one had the courtesy to even look in on him. Damned fools. Traitors! They were all in this together? Or had God forsaken him and deafened his servants so this evil soul could seek it's retribution?

No, not God. Never God.

This was the Devil's work!

"Surely you cannot be frightened of me" the voice continued in a playful manner, and Henry stopped dead when he felt a cold hand upon rest upon his shoulder. An icy breath blew down his neck. He could feel all the colour leaving his body as he dared to turn around and look at the...the...that _thing_ again.

There, stood in the pale moonlight, he could see the cold, white face of Anne Boleyn smirking her infamous lopsided smile at him as though she found all this commotion rather amusing. Henry noted a faint, thin scar that ran around her delicate, swan like neck.

"What do you want, Anne?" it killed him to even utter her name.

Ever since that fateful day in May of 1536 he had tried to erase everything that ever reminded him of the deceitful whore that stood before him. Her books, her clothes, her trinkets. He even had Elizabeth removed from court for a while just because looking into her soulful, doe eyes reminded him too much of her mother. But although he kept reminding himself it was because Anne had betrayed him, deep down he was well aware it was due to the guilt of unjustly putting her to death.

"We want you, Henry Tudor" a second voice announced. A beautifully charismatic voice which carried just a trill of a Spanish accent. Henry eyes immediately darted across the room and he noted there was a second figure standing in the shadows. He didn't even need to see her face to know who she was.

Anne turned her head at an angle and her smile widened at the sound of her accomplice, her onyx eyes still lingering upon Henry's sapphire ones. Hungrily. Lustfully. Manically.

"Catherine" Henry acknowledged his loyal first wife, sinking to his knees in utter despair. He could barely contain his breath. His night shirt felt tight against his chest. He tried to loosen the collar so he could breathe but even when he managed to gulp at the air, it was icy cold and was like daggers stabbing at his lungs.

"That's a good start" Anne whispered, observing him cowering on the floor. She began to circle around him. Henry could not tell whether she was walking or floating in the air. He knew this was the least of his worries. "You reduced all your wives to this state, cowering on our knees, begging you for mercy" she spat bitterly.

"Has he begged you yet, Anne?" Catherine inquired, walking towards the couple. As she walked, a few candles around the room flickered to life and Henry could observe both of the ghouls' faces as clear as if it were day. Catherine's face was ashen, even more so when contrasted against the black velvet and dark lace of her gown.

"Not yet. But he will do" was her confident reply.

"What unlikely allies" Henry observed venomously.

"Why unlikely?" was Anne's cool reply. "You wronged us both. You have wronged all of us"

"I was a good husband" he tried to defend himself, but this mere sentence was met by raucous laughter at his cheeks.

One voice in particularly was louder than others. In fact, it wasn't coming from either of the spirits in front of him, if that is what they were. He still wasn't sure whether they he was addressing walking, talking corpses or demons sent from hell to torture him into submission.

No, this laugh was lying low in the room and far more shrill than the others.

_God help me, not another_, was the first thing that entered his mind as he lowered his gaze to down to the floor to see if he could witness another spirit in the room. And sure enough, under his bed he observed a small, lithe figure dressed in purple lying on it's stomach and staring back at him with it's large hazel eyes. He grimaced at the thought that the spirit might have been lurking beneath him as he slept.

"You were a terrible husband" the childish voice of the spirit announced as it seemingly rolled out from under the bed, still giggling away. Her wavy, golden brown hair cascaded over her shoulders as she jumped up rather sprightly on to her feet. Katherine Howard looked as pretty in death as she did in life, and Henry looked longingly after her.

She had been everything he had wanted in a wife. Beautiful, lively, charming and accomplished in womanly arts. So seemingly innocent and pure with her elfin face and child like personae. But the Devil comes in many forms and he was sure he had been sent to tempt and humiliate him.

Adulteress. Whore. Slut!

"You couldn't even satisfy any of your wives in the bedroom. No wonder I sough comfort else where. You were a failure of a husband and a failure of a man" she taunted with a mischievous grin as though she were a child bullying her class mate.

"Be gone, whores! Leave me alone and take the Devil with you" he cried out, making a sign of the cross over himself as protection from the spirits that tormented him. He clasped his sore, tender hands together and began to mutter 'Hail Marys'.

"Am I whore Henry?" a delicate voice called out. A voice that was like melted honey in his ears.

His eyes shot open in delighted hope. He had often dreamt of this moment happening. Regaled in white, Jane Seymour stepped out between Catherine and Anne and took hold of Henry by the shoulders, helping him rise to his feet. Her golden hair, brilliant blue eyes and warm, easy smile made her look truly angelic and Henry thanked the good Lord for sending his saviour.

"Blessed be God, he has sent an angel to save me" he cried in thanks and longed to embrace his sweet, gentle Jane. But when he moved forward to take hold of her, she held him at arm's length.

"I be no angel and I am not here to save you." Whilst her voice was gentle and soft, her tone was firm and authoritative. Henry was shocked at this sudden change in his beloved and cocked his head at her in confusion. "Do you know the hell that you have put us through?" she quietly demanded.

"You made our lives miserable" Catherine of Aragon hissed at him, "Imagine the fear that ran through our mind as we prepared to die. I was alone, cold and miserable. All I wanted was my daughter's sweet embrace. To hold and kiss her before I met with God" she explained solemnly, wiping a stray tear from her eye.

"And all I could think about on that scaffold was what would happen to my Elizabeth now she was to be the daughter of an traitor. Would you treat kindly or would you take your hatred of me out upon her. And you did!" Anne shouted. "Not only that, but how would effect her growing up? Would she be weak and compliant out of fear? Would she resent me for abandoning her to this wretched life? Would she be ashamed of me for my alleged indiscretions?"

Then it was Jane's turn to speak, but she was not angry or bitter like her predecessors.

"I was so happy when I had Edward. He was the light in my dark world. A world that you helped darken, with your poisonous words and cruel threats. I was always walking upon egg shells in your presence, desperate not to anger you in case you should cast me off like your other wives" she revealed. "He was the only worth while part of my life and although sad I did not get to see him grow, I do not regret dying in order to give him life."

"I was so mortified of standing before people at my execution. I had no privacy, not even in death. I was a child, a silly fool. But the last thing I remembered thinking before I died was that the King was even more of a fool than I was. To think that a young, pretty girl like me could ever love an old, cruel being like yourself" Katherine Howard laughed maliciously.

"You have no one to blame but yourselves" Henry insisted.

"You still cannot admit it to this day" Anne said in disbelief. "Well then, you deserve everything you get" she coldly added.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know what was awaiting.

"**We **are going to do nothing" Katherine Howard stated in a rather matter of fact manner. "We were sent here out of love"

"We were a warning" Jane continued, "The Lord thinks you are a wicked soul Henry Tudor, but he believes every being deserves redemption should they repent their sins and ask for forgiveness"

"But you, you are so pig headed that you cannot even admit your sins to yourself, never mind to us" Catherine of Aragon observed.

"So you are to suffer eternal damnation. You will burn in hell fire, tormented like we were tormented. You will have to carry the weight of your sins on your back and carry that burden until the day of Judgement. You will relive our despair, you will feel our pain" Anne announced, no emotion in her voice but still wearing that awful, knowing smirk that he once used to love about her but now despised.

"No" Henry cowered to the floor again, his hands over his ears so he would not have to hear their evil words any more.

"You will sleep on hot coals, with maggots for blankets and worms feeding upon you. You will drink molten gold that will burn your insides and eat faeces for lunch" Katherine giggled in her usual child like manner.

The images were too horribly, no matter how hard he tried to cover his ears he could still hear their voices. He tried to shout over it, "No, stop it, please I beg you" his eyes were closed tight now, he couldn't stand to see their cruel, ghoulish faces.

"And know this. Your son will die young" Jane sorrowfully informed him. "He will be reunited in heaven with me soon and I shall care and love for him whilst you are rotting in hell. But your daughters will be Queens. And Elizabeth shall be the greatest monarch that England has ever seen" she proudly announced, giving Anne a respectful smile that she returned in gratitude.

"She will bring in a Golden Age and be remembered as Gloriana, whilst you...you will be immortalised as a fat, gluttonous tyrant who drank too much and married too many times. You will become the laughing stock of a nation. That will be your legacy!" Anne triumphed.

"Enough!" Henry roared and he jumped up with all the authority of a King. But when he opened his eyes he was quite alone in his darkened room, with only the moonlight for company.

He turned left and right, he looked underneath the bed and behind the curtains and even in the fire place to make sure no souls, living or dead, were lurking within the room.

He was quite alone.

He ran to the chamber door and opened it with ease, though was met with strange looks from the guards who wondered why the King had decided to open the door merely to stare at them. He let the door shut again with a loud thud and jumped back into bed, taking care to hop in case Katherine Howard should be hiding beneath it again and decided to grab for his ankles, dragging him to Hell with her.

Henry did not sleep that night, nor the one after that.

He never forgot what had happened that fateful All Hallows Eve and feared that night for the rest of his life.

And he certainly never forgot what his wives had told him. Their ghostly faces and evil words haunted him for the rest of his life, until finally he was reunited with the four again upon his death bed.

They were sat upon his bed.

Smiling.

Waiting.


End file.
